B004U2USMY EBOK (15 page)

“
Ay, diós mio,
” she said, the Spanish
spilling from her mouth without thought.

“A Spanish girl.” Hoekman smiled. “Yes, I
knew it.”

Gabriela recovered. “What is going on? I
really didn’t mean to come with you if—”

“You think to play me. You cannot play me, I
am the player. You understand, I know what you are doing.”

He dumped her purse on the floor. He picked
up her knife. “And this?”

“Paris is dangerous at night for a girl.”

“A weapon.” He shook his head in what looked
like mock disgust. “And reichsmarks. So many. Does your major
friend give to you? This is illegal, surely you know.”

She forced anger into her voice. “Are you
just here to rob me, or are you arresting me? If so, do it and
let’s be done with it.”

“I do not arrest you,” Hoekman said. “I bring
you to talk.”

“What? Then I’m not interested in talking.
Please, stop the truck and let me out. I have work to do at the
restaurant.”

He cut her off with a withering look. “You
will now cooperate or your father will suffer.”

She let out a gasp. “My father?”

“You think I do not remember? I remember you.
I remember everything. And he talks. He tells me your name and
when I meet you I remember.”

“He talks? You mean he’s still alive?” She
was breathing very quickly now. “But where is he, what did you do
with him? Please, for god’s sake, I’m just a girl, I need to find
my father and help him.”

“Yes, you may help him.” He paused, as if
struggling to find the right words in French. “You may help him by
helping me.”

The truck stopped. It had only been a few
minutes; they must still be close to the restaurant.

“I told you,” she said. “I don’t know
anything, I’m just a girl trying to stay alive, how could I
possibly help you?”

“Very easy,
mademoiselle
. You return
to your lover, the major, and you. . .how you say?”

“What?”

“You learn certain things and you tell me.”

“I spy on Alfonse you mean?”

“Yes, that is the word, you
spy
.”

The thought was repellent. She had no great
affection for Alfonse. She was only with him to feed herself and
stay close to the restaurant where she’d hoped to meet Colonel
Hoekman again. And yes, she’d responded physically to the man, but
so what? He was just another
boche
, ravaging
La Belle
France
, Marianne in chains, who had no choice but to spread
her legs and smile.

Yet knowing that Alfonse was this man’s prey
made him more endearing than the money, food, warm bed and bath,
the touches that her body had craved. Who cared what kind of man
Alfonse was, Hoekman dragged people away and they were never seen
again.

But Papá. He’s alive!

“It is your choice,” Hoekman said. “You help
me and I help you. You do not help me and your father. .
.suffers.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.” The words tasted heavy
and foul on her tongue. “I’ll spy on him. Tell me what and how.”

“Be careful, be very, very careful. I see
when I am double-crossed.”

“Double-crossed,” she muttered. “Is that on
the vocabulary list at the Gestapo language school?”

“What?”

“I won’t double-cross you, but I need proof
my father is alive. I need to know he is still alive and well,”
she repeated, more firmly this time.

“No, no. First you spy, then if no
double-cross, I help with father.”

Liar. She’d help him and then he’d forget all
about the bargain, but it wouldn’t matter because she’d be stuck.
There had to be some way to stake out a small measure of autonomy.
To keep from being swallowed whole and digested by this thing.

“No, first you prove he is alive, then I
help. And after I help, you must promise to let my father go.”

“Let him go? We don’t let people go. I
promise not to kill him, that is all.”

There was one thing. The one weapon that
every attractive woman still wielded. She put her hand on his leg.
“Please, be reasonable. If you are reasonable, I can be reasonable
too.”

He looked down at her hand, then licked his
lips with a disgusting motion that looked like a night crawler
coming in and out of its hole. “Yes, yes. Reasonable. I like
that.”

“See how easy that is?”

He put his hand on her breast and gave a
clumsy squeeze. “Come to my flat, you show me reasonable.”

She slid her hand higher on his thigh. “No,
first you prove to me my father is still alive, then I will be
reasonable.”

Hoekman stared. Again, the tongue. He was
breathing heavily now. Slowly, gently, Gabriela removed her hand
from his leg, then pulled his hand off her breast.

“You can be reasonable, too, Hans. I know you
can.”

He could force her. Gabriela had no illusions
about that. Men could always force what they couldn’t earn. But
most men—even someone like Colonel Hoekman—wanted to
believe
it was earned. She could see it going through his mind right now.

At last he nodded. “Yes, okay. We shall both
be reasonable. I find you proof your father is still alive. You
find me one piece of information in return. Yes?”

“What kind of information?” she asked,
suspicious.

“There is man I look for. I don’t know his
name, but they call him. . .how do you say? The lowest rank of
enlisted man.”

“
Simple soldat?
”

“Yes, that. A common soldier.”

“You are looking for a private? Is he a
deserter?”

“Of course he is not a true private,” Hoekman
said with some irritation. “That is what they call him. I search
for his true identity. You find if Major Ostermann knows this man,
I help with your father. It is small thing. A reasonable thing.”

She nodded. “Yes, okay.”

Hoekman smiled. He leaned forward and rapped
twice on the metal that divided them from the cab. The truck
shifted into gear and pulled away.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To Ostermann’s flat. You must not go again
to restaurant, not tonight because we leave together. I take you
to his flat.”

Gabriela let out her breath. “Can I have my
money back?”

“No, the money stays with me. The knife, too.
These are illegal.”

Illegal and also leverage. It was a fair
amount of money Alfonse had given her; she couldn’t ask for more
anytime soon.

But Gabriela was alive and soon to be
released, that was all that mattered.

#

Alfonse staggered in shortly after dawn. He
was still drunk, but wore the bleary look of a man with a fading
buzz and a budding headache. Gabriela lifted herself on one elbow
to look at him.

He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, peeled
off his shoes and chucked them in the general direction of the
closet, then tossed his jacket at the chair. It missed. He sank
back onto the bed with a groan.

“God, that was a night. And I’ve got to meet
with General Shoenkopf at ten. That’s what, three hours from now?
He’s going to scream at me about that ball-bearing shipment.
Goddamn factory was bombed to hell by the Americans last week so
of course the shipment is
kaput
. He’s going to take one
look at me and wonder why I was out drinking all night instead of
finding his precious ball bearings. The Luftwaffe will fall from
the sky for lack of ball bearings and it’s all going to be my
fault. What was I thinking? You should have stopped me. Or
Christine. Or common sense. Someone or something.”

“There was no stopping you.”

He chuckled. “No, there wasn’t, was there?”
And then, when she didn’t answer, he rolled over to look at her.
“You’re not angry, are you?”

“Why would I be angry?” Truth was, she’d been
caught up in memories of the ugly meeting with Colonel Hoekman and
barely listening.

“Oh, you know. I left you at the lounge and
when I came back you were gone. I knew you didn’t leave with
someone else, you’d never do that, so I figured you’d sulked home
on your own. Is that what happened?”

“No, really I’m okay. Did you have a good
time, what happened?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want to know?”

“Sure.”

“You say you want to know, but I don’t think
you really do. You’ll get jealous and then there will be a scene
and my head is starting to hurt already.”

“How about if I express just enough jealousy
to let you know I care.”

“And how much is that?” he asked.

“I’ll aim for an appropriate spot somewhere
between dozing off to sleep and chasing you out of the flat with a
hail of broken plates.”

He laughed. “Okay, so there was this little
Spanish girl, some friend of Christine’s, and she was doing this
dance where she took slices of an apple and put them in her—wait,
are you sure?”

“Oh come on, I’m not easily shocked. Go on.”

“So anyway she took these apple slices out of
her. . .you know. . .and then she picked out the men and forced
them to eat the pieces. If they resisted, she took her legs
and—well, it was funny.”

“And how did the apples taste after they’d
been moistened up a little?”

He actually blushed at this. “You know, it’s
not usually my style, but I’d had a little too much to drink.”

“So is this the girl you took into the back
room?”

“Oh, come on, I wouldn’t. . .well, sure. I
didn’t mean to, but she was insistent. You know how these peasant
girls are. Horny as hell, every one of them. I think a girl grows
up in a small town in Spain there’s no cinema, no art, no culture
of any kind. She gets really good at screwing.”

“What do you mean, no culture of any kind?
You make it sound like Spain is the Belgian Congo or something.”

“It’s the Congo of Europe,” Alfonse said.

She found herself bristling. “No, it’s not.
There’s all kinds of history, architecture, music. It’s a great
country. They had a huge empire. Spaniards discovered the
Americas.”

“No they didn’t. Columbus was Italian.”

“Funded by the Spanish queen.”

“Oh, what do you know about it?” he said.
“Look, I’ve been to Spain, you haven’t. Donkeys and bicycles. Dogs
pooping in the street. Really bad food.”

“Bad food? What about paella?”

“Paella? What’s that?”

“What’s paella? Are you serious? And you’re
lecturing me about Spain? Oh, never mind.”

“Fifty years from now, when Germans and
Americans are living on the moon—probably killing each other up
there—you’ll see, the Spaniards will still be riding donkeys and
bicycles. I can’t believe it, you’re getting mad. It’s the girl,
right? You
are
jealous that I went back with another
girl.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Women are all the same, I should have known.
Oh, my head.”

“You should sleep a little,” she said, “so
you’ll be ready for the unpleasant discussion about ball
bearings.”

“No way, falling asleep will make it worse.
I’ll wake up, I’ll be groggy with bags under my eyes. No, I’m just
going to lie down for a few minutes, then get cleaned up and get
some coffee. Lots and lots of black coffee.”

Gabriela reached for the water carafe and
poured a glass. “You’ll feel better if you drink some water.”

“What? No, not right now.” He yawned. “Say
something so I don’t fall asleep.”

“So, you buy ball bearings and ship them to
Germany? Is that your job in the army?”

“Why would you want to know about that?”

“You told me to say something, so I said the
first thing I thought of.”

“It’s really complicated. I’m not sure you’d
understand.”

“Probably not,” she said, deciding that there
were upsides to having him continue to underestimate her
intelligence. “But you need to talk, remember, so you don’t fall
asleep.”

“Okay, yes, it’s something like that.
Everything is wrapped in with the war effort. You’ve got guys like
Helmut working as private businesses, but military orders take top
priority at any and all times. You know, it’s kind of like how
there’s not always flour and cooking oil on the shelves because
our soldiers need the food so they can keep the Russians from
penetrating the Reich.”

Sure, because “our” soldiers needed French
flour and cooking oil more than hungry French children. It
reminded her of the Demarais, hungry in their freezing apartment
in the 14
^th
Arrondissement.

“But I thought it was the Germans who invaded
Russia, not the other way around,” she asked in an innocent voice.

“Purely a preventative war. I mean, you can
argue about details of this thing or that. Maybe we shouldn’t have
gone into Poland in the first place, and I always thought we
should have come to an understanding with the British early on.
They’re a reasonable race, they didn’t want a wide-scale war
anymore than we did. And you know, as soon as the Brits started
fighting, it was only a matter of time until Roosevelt forced the
Americans into the war.”

“I thought that had something to do with
Japan.”

“Well, the Japanese are another problem. But
my point is, there’s nothing you could do about the Russians. They
want to turn every country in Europe into little Soviet republics.
Overrun the world with Slavs. Sooner or later the civilized races
had to confront them.”

“So it’s purely a defensive war, then?”

“If you take a wide enough view, yes.”

“If there’s one thing you Germans are good
at, it’s taking a wide view. In your narrow sort of way, that is.”

“Let’s not talk politics,” he said. “It’s an
exceptionally boring subject, especially if I have to explain the
background of everything for you to even understand what I’m
talking about. Isn’t there something else you want to talk about?”

“Well, I’m still wondering about your job,”
Gabriela said. “Sounds like you and Helmut do pretty much the same
thing, just that you’re military and he’s a businessman. Is there
a lot of money in it?”